post# 19 5 days 13 h 47 m 56 s

Part 4
We’ll now wind our way through Long Island City in route to the Queensboro a.k.a. 59th Street Bridge. In years past this would have been a mostly desolate, industrial neighborhood. But like so much of the city, especially those areas within close proximity to Manhattan, high-rises have sprouted along the East River and former factories are now upscale apartment/lofts. As a result there is no stretch of the race where cheers will not be heard.
The approach to the 59th Street Bridge is one more of the small inclines in the route. Of greater issue here is the fact that it will be the first of two steel decked bridges. These are not flat steel plates but the serrated, waffle, knubbed steel variety that if you trip on will rip your legs, palms and or elbows open. You’re going to pay attention crossing the bridge.
The big payoff awaits the runners on the other side. The exit ramp makes a big, sweeping 225 degree turn going under the bridge and pouring the runners out onto First Avenue in the borough of Manhattan. The beginning of the sweep is a high retaining wall topped by a thick fringe of roaring spectators. As you progress around the circle the wall comes down to meet you at street level and suddenly you’re an Olympic athlete being greeted by a roar of adulation from thousands of fans as you enter the stadium. (Or maybe it’s the roar of the crowd atop the Coliseum ramparts greeting the gladiators to battle.) Either way it’s a nice momentary boost, for once you center your mind back to the task at hand, looking ahead you quickly realize that First Avenue is one seemingly endless stretch of road for as far as you can see.
This for me is where the work begins. It’s miles 16 through 19 and a half, up the endless First Avenue from 59th through 128th Streets. When I come to a water table somewhere in the 90’s I’ll stop for a drink, a splash over my head and a pause long enough to stretch for the first time. It’s from here on that I start to feel the miles pile on. A slight brain fog will creep in making it harder to calculate your miles or pace. The roaring crowds will gradually fall away as you progress up the avenue making you feel more and more on your own. Now you begin to feel the competition. It’s you against the miles.
At the top of Manhattan is the Willis Avenue Bridge, the second of the two steel decked bridges. Crossing over the Bronx River you’ll make your second shortest visit in the fifth of New York’s five boroughs, The Bronx. The marathon borders route 87 on one side and it’s here the spectators are at their smallest numbers. In short order you’re crossing back into Manhattan through Harlem and from here to the finish the crowds will once more steadily reappear with enthusiastic ferocity.

to be continued...